Tag Archives: regret

I stand alone

Author’s Note:  This is one of the rare times when the words you read here are are not fiction.  There is nothing sexy or erotic about what I am going to reveal here.  Consider it a glimpse behind the veil.

Today, for the first time since I was 22, I stand alone.

As of 9:50 a.m. today, I am officially a divorced woman.

I came home tonight to an empty apartment – a homecoming that I managed to put off several hours with mindless retail therapy in the name of Jolly Old Saint Nicholas.

Today, I did not turn to Kik, to text messages, to the countless digital distractions that have filled my days since I moved out of my home.  Today I spent the day holding it all in – the pain, the sorrow, the loss, the regret, the animosity, the anger.  At one point during the day, a well-meaning coworker asked me if I was alright? His question nearly broke my tenuous composure.

No.

I am NOT okay.

None of this is okay.

It isn’t just the divorce.  Yes, it is true I held my breath in a courtroom today, avoiding eye contact with a judicial assistant as I silently prayed the Judge saw the desperation in my ex’s last-ditch attempt to reduce child support.  I silently prayed that I would find the well-spring of calm within that would help me get through this terrible day.  I prayed for strength, hoping that the strength so many people claim to see in me would not fail me in my moment of need.

But today was a final reckoning in many ways.

There has been a couple of years of seismic change in my life.  I have made countless choices that have had expected, and unexpected, consequences.  I have leaned on people, digital strangers who became friends, lovers, and ghosts.  I have fled my sorrow hiding from my feelings in the arms of men – seeking distraction from my pain in frivolity.

I have lost. Husbands, families, circles of love that I thought would always be there embracing me.  I have shattered more than just my own dreams for the future.  I have taken away dreams from those who are too young to know what they have lost.

I have lost friends whose wisdom and humor, whose perspective and support kept me going when I felt I could not fight any longer.  I have lost the dream of someone – the dream of a future I dared to long for, but was not courageous enough to fight for.  Love I once held in my heart for others.

I have lost love.  Love from people who once called me family. Love from people who yearned to call me their Lover.  Love from those who said their love for me would never end.

There are regrets.  I can see clearly the pain my journey has caused others.  As this Phoenix has burned, so has she burned those who stood too close to her.

I can only pray that now the burning is over.  With each dawn that brightens my bedroom, I hope beyond all other that the burning time is over and today is the day I will rise from the ashes.

Today, for the first time since I was 22, I stand alone.

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Filed under Erotica

Unbefitting

There is no argument among the members of the jury:  I fucked up.

My mistake, a boundary somewhere on the path, blown past in my haste to understand. Sometimes, I rush to communicate and it backfires on me.

I am guilty.

Guilty of showing my insecurity.  Guilty of applying pressure, something I promised never to do.  Guilty of lashing out and not taking time to choose my words with care.

Guilty. As. Charged.

But the punishment Your Honor, was too severe.

The harsh degree of punishment did not befit the crime.

And in the face of these blows, I throw my hands up in defense and silently scream:  This doesn’t fit my crime!!!

I can’t change the judgment.  I can’t defend against this.  I can’t undo the crime itself.  I can’t get through to you.

I

Can’t

Stop

Missing

You.

I have moved on already.  Multiple times and in a variety of positions.  I have felt the tingling of emotion trying to blossom in my chest. And then I think of you.

And our friendship.

And our victory laps untaken.

And the dreams we confessed to each other.

And the sins we committed.

And the parting.

And the distance.

And my crime.

And the sheer void you left behind.

And the punishment that is still hurting.

And how it never fit the crime.

I pull back hard on the reigns of my heart.  I pull into myself like a snail recoiling from unexpected touch. I push that tiny blossom down under a weighty cloak of boundless cynicism.

I could try to argue.  But it would be pointless.  In the end I have to accept my punishment.  In the end, I have to submit to the Judge and Jury.  In the end, it is just another end – I’ve survived enough of them to know I’ll get through this one too.

But you were to ask me, Your Honor, how I feel about my life sentence I would raise my voice and say: “THIS PUNISHMENT SUCKS!”

And it did not fit the crime.

 

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Filed under Erotica, Poetry, Tasty Morsels, Tender

Insomniac’s Lament

The fog is gathering outside the bedroom window of my apartment.  A nearby traffic light splashes colors in sequence on my bedroom wall, red, green, yellow, red.  I should be sleeping but the oblivion of sleep is not mine to be had on this cold night.  I am being kept awake by the clanging of memories in my head.

Moments from a not-too-distant past come back to me, tiny snippets return home to nest in my mind.  The sound of your laugh. The feel of your long fingers as they touched my face.  I still sigh when I think of your touch.  The only person I have ever known who could make me feel fragile and beautiful, utterly revered, with simply a touch.

I find myself searching to recreate some of those moments.  A good meal, even better conversation and the story of my life spinning on the CD player.  Laughter and companionship.  Open wounds examined and analyzed,  carefully tended to and healed.  Freedom and expression.  Romance and redemption.  Rebirth.

I search in vain.

It is easy to go back in my mind, and paint over the painful parts.  To cover the awkward moments, ignore the signs and signals that you flashed along the way.  You left a bread-crumb trail for me to follow – and in my haste to reach you, in my rush to be by your side, I missed them all.

I see them now, thanks to the benefit of my old friend: 20/20 hindsight.  I hear the messages you carefully wove in your words; the cautions, the warnings that this was indeed a temporary state of bliss.  My foolish optimism knew no bounds and I hoped, I believed.  All the while, the realist in me knew that with each step, as it grew into something far beyond its humble beginnings, that it would not – it could not – last.

But when I close my eyes and rest my head on my pillow at night I can feel your hands on my face.  While it is the memory of your touch that haunts me, it is the friendship I miss the most.

You tried to tell me.  I just didn’t want to hear it.  There is no way this could have been a lasting thing.  Rebounds are like snowflakes – fragile, unique and never meant to stand the test of time.

 

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Filed under Love Notes